A Little Something For Maggie's Birthday
by Loafer
Summary: In response to TheShulesLovinPsycho's challenge, here's a teeny little piece honoring the friendship between O'Hara and her partner. (Posted 35 minutes early but you'll just have to cope.)


**Disclaimer** : boo hoo stolen characters yeah blah boo hoo.

 **Rating** : wow, I think it's a K… no, hang on… T. One sorta kinda half-bad word. Oopsy.

 **Summary** : Just a very very VERY short little thingy in response to TheShulesLovinPsycho's challenge to post a story on Maggie Lawson's birthday. No pairings, just friendship.

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Juliet found him sitting on a bench by the ocean, and it took her back to the earliest days of their partnership, back when he needed to be "The Senior Detective and Don't You Dare Forget It"—back when she had no idea his aloofness was really about recovering from the debacle of his affair with Lucinda Barry by building every kind of wall between him and his _new_ young blonde female partner.

All these years later, their partnership was very different, but he still had the same faraway expression in his vivid blue eyes.

And this time when she spoke to Carlton, he smiled rather than scowled at her.

"Here," he said as she sat next to him, handing her a tall cup. "I think it's in your top three favorite flavors."

She tasted the coconut smoothie and smiled. "Thanks."

"Happy birthday."

"Thanks for that, too."

Almost diffidently, he passed over a sealed envelope.

Before she opened it, a beautiful white and gold Rough Collie raced by, kicking up sand as she evaded her owner, a young man bellowing after her to _come back, come back._

"Who names a dog Pineapple?" Carlton asked, bemused. "Don't say Spencer."

Juliet laughed. "Are you sure that wasn't him?"

"If it was, Guster would be bringing up the rear."

"Or leading," she countered. "Being chased by Pineapple."

"More likely, the dog _stole_ his pineapple and that's what he was shouting about."

"Or _Gus_ stole it, and the dog's just in the way."

"As officers of the law, we could intervene," he said thoughtfully.

"We're on lunch," she reminded him. "And that wasn't Shawn. And it's my birthday."

"All true." He glanced at the card in her hand.

Feeling an odd thrill of anticipation—fueled by his obvious mixed feelings about whatever he'd chosen—she opened it carefully, noting the simple J in his distinctive scrawl.

The card front featured an image of a pile of sparkling jewels and the words: "Happy birthday to the very best…"

On the inside, which was otherwise blank, he'd written, "…partner and friend. Every day with you is like a birthday for _me_."

She stared at it in wonderment for a little too long, because Carlton shifted uncomfortably beside her.

There was a gift certificate to one of her favorite shoe stores, but she was unexpectedly misty-eyed from the hand-written words more than the possibility of shoes. "Carlton," she whispered. "That is so sweet."

"I couldn't find a card which said the right thing." He sounded nervous. "I don't know if that was the right thing. But it's what I was thinking."

"It was the right thing," she promised. "Especially if you mean it."

"Yeah, I mean it. I can't lie to you, O'Hara." He straightened up, looking wry. "God knows I've wanted to more than once, to save my sorry ass from some stupid thing I did. But all you do is give me that look and I can't do it."

"That _look_? What look?"

Carlton gave her his own Look. "Yeah, you can knock _that_ crap off."

Juliet laughed and leaned in faster than he could see her coming, to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Okay, but just for today. Thank you, Carlton. This is the best card ever and I promise to at least _consider_ sensible shoes when I use the gift certificate."

"And then you'll buy something ridiculously inappropriate anyway."

"Well, of course. It _is_ my birthday." She leaned back against the bench and sipped her smoothie. The wide blue ocean, the cool salty breeze, her quiet partner beside her—it was a very good day. Criminals, schriminals: it all faded away in this simple moment of… _partnership_.

She sighed contentedly.

Somewhere down the beach, Pineapple barked happily and her owner went on yelling for her to _stay_ , but Pineapple was having none of that.

"It must be her birthday too," Juliet decided.

"Then he'll never catch her," Carlton said with a smile, and she laughed, and everything was just exactly perfect, by the ocean, under the sun, with her friend.

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End file.
